


You Were the One (That Got Away)

by Bulmaveg_Otaku



Series: Darcy Lewis Crossover Bingo 2016 [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - X-Men Fusion, Angst, F/M, High School, Mutants, Smut, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 11:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6608776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bulmaveg_Otaku/pseuds/Bulmaveg_Otaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Expanded X-Men Fusion/Crossover that I started for Darcy Lewis Crossover Bingo and continued for Miin (awwheartno). Tagged UNDERAGE because Darcy and Steve haven't quite turned 18 yet this starts in March/April her birthday is June and his is July)</p>
<p>Darcy has a long standing crush on Steve, but he never seemed interested. Steve has always liked Darcy, but the timing never seemed right and now she's getting ready to leave for college, as soon as graduation is over. Bucky's interested in Darcy, has been for a while, but never acted on it because he knew she and Steve liked each other. </p>
<p>Growing up and getting older means making all the hard decision and realizing that your actions can have far reaching, and sometimes devastating, consequences. When things go badly wrong with the people you care about is it better to let them go or will they be willing to do what it takes to make things right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Way You Turn Me On (I Can’t Sleep)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Okay, guts, I seriously broke all my rules on this one. No High School AU's? Just kidding! No angsty love triangles? Yeah, right! 
> 
> This is going to get worse before it gets better, guys, by which I mean you can expect people to screw up, say awful things, and make bad decisions. The first few parts will be dealing with these three crazy kids pre-graduation. Bucky is 18, but Darcy and Steve are still 17 to start off. This fic will deal with mature themes, like cheating and betrayal, teenage drinking and promiscuity, and hate groups and anti-mutant prejudice as well as a few others. 
> 
> I realize these aren't for everyone, but rest assured this will eventually shift to adults and there will be a happy-ending. Mostly happy ending? I won't leave you abandoned and in total despair and misery, how about that?
> 
> Title and all chapter titles come from Katy Perry songs. I guess she just speaks to the angsty teenager inside of me.

Steve heard a grunt coming from a place where there shouldn’t be a grunt, or a person to make a grunt for that matter. He rolled out of bed and slid over to the window to peak behind the curtains.

 

“What is it, Steve?” Bucky asked from the other side of the room, turning over in his bed and cracking an eye open.

 

“Heard somethin’,” Steve murmured, pulling the curtain away from the wall another inch.

 

“Hey! Rogers! Let me in already! Open up!” The voice was recognizable, despite being distorted by a harsh whisper.

 

“Lewis?” He flung the fabric to the side and started working on opening the window. They were three stories up. “How are you…?”

 

“Jane’s got me in a 0 G bubble, but I don’t know if she can hold it forever. You wanna find out?”

 

“No,” he scowled and reached out to grab her wrists and tug her inside. Once she was over the seal she dropped to the carpet with a soft thump and Steve stuck his head out the open window to see Jane on the ground in the courtyard below. She waved excitedly and he gave a hesitant reply. “Why are you and Foster breaking curfew to use her powers against the rules and breaking into the boy’s dorm, where you aren’t supposed to be?” Steve asked, putting his hands on his hips and giving Darcy his best disappointed face.

 

She grinned wickedly as she popped to her feet and brushed her hands off on her pants. “Jane and I managed to pilfer a bottle of Professor Romanov’s vodka. We’re gonna sneak down to the boiler room and get wasted. You should come with us.”

 

Steve just stared at her, mouth stuck open. “How did you managed to steal from- No, you know what? I don’t want to know. You know it’s only a matter of time before she catches you, if it wasn’t all a trap to begin with. And sneaking down to the boiler room? You know our principle is a mind reader, right?”

 

Darcy punched his shoulder. “Lighten up, Rogers. We already told Stark and Banner to meet us down there. Stark is gonna do his eye in the sky bit and keep a look out, and  Bruce has all the tunnels and secret passageways mapped out so we can escape if anyone comes looking for us. It’ll be fun!”

 

“You’ll escape to where exactly? It’s not like you can just run forever,” he countered knowing this was just another one of Lewis’ half-baked schemes.

 

“Details, shmetails,” she groaned. “You’re missing the point, Steve-o. You’re always so uptight. You need to get out and live a little,” she whined, leaning against him and gripping his t-shirt while she looked up and batted her eyes at him, which only partially distracted him from the view down her top. Was that a red-bra? Or black? No, it was red with black lace.

 

Steve stepped back from her and pulled her hands off of his shirt. “This whole thing is just stupid, Lewis. You just barely got done filling your community service hours from the last time you got caught breaking the rules. If you were smart you’d take Jane and go back to your room. Go to bed. We might not have class tomorrow, but I don’t think you really want to spend all weekend in detention with a hangover, which is exactly what’s going to happen.”

 

The girl growled in frustration. “Okay, Captain Buzzkill. I didn’t know your mutation was being a party-popper of epic proportions.” She pouched out her lip slightly and tried the Bambi eyes again. “Please? Come for me?”

 

He just shook his head. “No thanks, Lewis. I’m good.”

 

She decided to change her tactic. “Fine. I bet Barnes will come with us. Won’t you, Barnes?”

 

Darcy whirled around to march over to Bucky’s bed and plop down next to his roommate and best friend, who was leaning up on one elbow and giving the curvy brunette an amused grin.

 

“You up for a little party, Bucky? Wanna have some fun with a couple of gorgeous girls and some entertaining weirdos? You’re way more fun than Rogers here usually?” she wheedled, reaching over to grope Bucky’s bicep, exposed by his sleep tank.

 

He watched her hand and then smiled up at her, flexing subtly. “Sure, Darce. I’m not a lame ass, like Steve. You want I should grab a shirt or-?”

 

“Please don’t,” she said winking, then jumped up. “All right, score. You can help keep the vodka chilled, right? Let’s get a move on then, I don’t want Jane to get too freaked out and bail on us. Which she might if she hears anything she thinks might be a rodent of any kind.”

 

She walked over to the window and leaned over to make sure Jane was still there before calling down that she was almost ready. Steve glared at his friend when he caught Bucky staring at Darcy’s ass in her short skirt. Bucky had the decency to look away as he climbed out of bed, looking a little bit guilty.

 

“Okay, Jane, I’m ready!” Darcy yell/whispered as she started climbing out on to the ledge. “See you at the bottom, Barnes,” she winked and stepped back as she felt the familiar tingle of 0 G’s crawl over her.

 

Once Darcy was gone, Bucky pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, despite Darcy’s request and Steve bit his tongue and decided to be grateful for small favors.

 

“Don’t worry, Steve, I promise to keep my hands off your girl,” Bucky tossed across the room as he pulled on socks and shoes.

 

Steve scowled harder. “She’s not my girl,” he muttered, sitting back on his bed and preparing to lie in bed all night and think about his friends out being stupid and getting in trouble. “Don’t behave on my account.” The sarcasm tasted like stubborn pride on his tongue.

 

Bucky sighed as he finished tying his vans and stood up. “Don’t be like that, punk. Just come with us! You’re right, we’ll probably all be hung over and pulling extra dish duty tomorrow, but I’ll be worth it. I saw the way Lewis was looking at you. She likes you, man. You should totally jump on that. I know you like her, too.”

 

Steve just rolled his eyes and climbed under his covers, refusing to even acknowledge his friends obnoxious, but accurate, accusation.

 

“Fine, you won’t mind if I see if I can get a hand up that tight little sweater thing she’s wearing then, do you? ‘Cause Lewis’ tits are basically a work of art. Someone should be trying to show their appreciation and if you aren’t gonna step up then you don’t mind if I do, right?” Bucky taunted, and Steve knew he was just looking for a reaction, trying to provoke him into changing his mind.

 

He forced himself to roll over and pulled the blankets up over his shoulder. “I don’t care. Do what you want, jerk.”

 

“You really don’t care?” Bucky said, and he sounded just hopeful enough to make Steve’s chest clench.

 

“I really don’t,” Steve lied. “Just make sure that when you’re caught, you tell Professor Romanov that I was asleep when you snuck out so I don’t get in trouble for not reporting you.” He was rather proud of how apathetic he sounded.

 

“Sure thing, pal,” he heard and then there was some scuffling and rustling as Bucky climbed out the window.  “Foster! You got me?”

 

“Yeah, Barnes, I got you. Just jump.”

 

Steve laid there; eyes closed shut and tried not to think about Darcy’s mouth on a long necked bottle, or Bucky’s hand up her shirt, or the way her skirt showed off her thighs when she bent over. Dr. Cho had told him that his mutation, accelerated healing and metabolism, meant he probably couldn’t get drunk anyway.

 

He told himself that’s why he wasn’t going. There was no point. He’d just end up getting in trouble with the rest of them for no reason. And Darcy… well, even if Bucky was right, Steve knew it would never work between them. He was an honor student, just counting the days until graduation so that he could begin his training with the team. He was going to be an X-Men. And Darcy… well, she wasn’t a bad student, but her ability, being a human battery and charging electronics with a touch, wasn’t exactly suited for combat. Besides, he knew she was looking at college, in Virginia with Jane, if he had heard right.

 

They were only a couple months away from their entire lives changing, and their paths parting company, probably forever.

 

Steve didn’t need the heartbreak, and he didn’t need the distraction, and he really didn’t need the extra chores. He’d made the correct decision, done the right thing.

 

Then why did he feel so shitty?


	2. I Can’t Stop (Don’t Care If I Lose)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut in this one! Participants are 17! If you consider that underage then be warned. 17 is the age of consent in New York so I'm calling this a grey area. Also, this is not the first time for either of them, sooooooo.....

The cold air from the freezer washed over Darcy and she sighed in relief as it soothed the flushed skin of her face. She was practically standing with her head in it, the door wide open while she tried to take a breath, settle her scattered, chaotic thoughts and calm her frantic heartbeat.

 

This had, by far, been the worst night ever.

 

The scrape on her face felt raw and tight, the arch of her cheekbone and the tissue between the two was tender and probably turning a lovely shade of blue and purple. She grabbed a bag of frozen peas and pressed it gingerly to the injury. She winced as the pain flared sharp and hot at the touch, and then eased slowly as the cold penetrated deeper and started its numbing work on the slight swelling.

 

She waited another second and then closed the freezer door, sad to feel the cold wash vanish. Maybe she could find Barnes. He'd be more than willing to help her cool-

 

She turned and almost walked right into the tall wall of muscle and self-righteous fury that was Steve Rogers. She gasped a little in surprise, but managed to jerk to a halt before impact. "Jesus, Rogers! You about gave me a heart attack. Warn a girl next time," she snapped, her slowing heart-rate once again jumping into fight or flight range.

 

She considered giving him a hard time for being in the kitchen after hours, but the intense anger growing in his eyes as he stared down at her made her words stall behind her teeth.

 

"What happened?" He asked. Steve's voice was low and deceptively calm, but she could sense the rubber-band-ready-to-snap rage that boiled beneath it.

 

Darcy stepped back and shifted the bag of peas slightly to make sure everything was covered evenly. "Nothing. It's just a scratch," she attempted, foolishly, to shrug it off and hope he would drop it. She tried to step back again, but felt her ass hit the fridge and came to a halt.

 

Steve reached up and grabbed the wrist of the hand that was pressing peas to her face, as if it could protect her from his ire. She wanted to fight as he pulled her hand away, but knew it would be futile. And childish. So she turned her face to hide the mark against the flat stainless steel behind her, instead.

 

"Darcy," Steve growled, actually growled, in frustration and used his other hand to turn her face so he could see the damage. "Who did this to you? What happened?"

 

"It isn't a big deal," Darcy insisted, and she returned his scowl, fire for fire, but in the end, she knew trying to play who "Who's More Stubborn" with Steve Rogers was an effort doomed to failure. "Ugh! You really aren't going to let this go, are you?"

 

He said nothing, but his eyes moved over her cheek and a new wash of feeling surged in his eyes.

 

"I went into town to the protest. Me and some of the others kids from my Sociology class. We thought it be a good idea to protest the protesters, you know, show them there were people who weren’t afraid to stand up against their message of hatred." Word of the Anti-Mutant Protesters in town had been going around the school all week and when the official school announcement had been made to ignore it, she and some of the students hadn't taken it well.

 

"We couldn't just sit back and do nothing!" She declared defensively. "So we made some signs and snuck down there, but one of the protesters got a little...testy."

 

"They hit you?" Steve asked, sounding even more furious, which she did not think was possible.

 

"Threw a rock, actually," she corrected, knowing full well it wouldn't help things.

 

Steve started like she'd punched him. "They threw- Darcy! You could have been really hurt! Or worse! What the hell were you thinking!?"

 

Darcy rolled her eyes and tugged out of his grasp, pushing around him. "Save it, Rogers. I already got read the riot act by Barton and Coulson. Trust me, I'm feeling plenty chastised at the moment. I was worried they were gonna break out the cat 'o nine tails for a second." She tried to make her voice light and dry so it didn't betray how shaken she still felt about the whole thing.

 

He followed her out the door and into the hallway. "Is this some kind of joke to you?" Steve demanded. "Why can't you take anything seriously?"

 

Darcy whirled on him. "Why do you have to take everything too seriously? I get it, okay! You're, once again, disappointed with my life choices. Well, I'm sorry Saint Steven, but not everyone can live their life as perfectly as you."

 

"I am not perfect," he scoffed. "I don't think I'm perfect."

 

"You could have fooled me," Darcy challenged, her voice sharp with rebuke. "Obviously, you know best, and I'm just some silly little girl that can't take care of herself."

 

"I-" Steve cut off his reply when he heard the sound of a door opening somewhere down the hallway. They weren’t really supposed to be there, and they definitely weren’t supposed to be making so much noise this late in the evening. It chagrined him that she was looking at him with that smug twinkle in her eye because she knew how much he didn't want to get caught. 

 

She started to turn, thinking this meant the discussion was over, but Steve wasn't done. Not by a long shot.

 

He grabbed her arm and pulled her around the corner, opened the door to the garage, and pushed her in. The garage of the X-Mansion doubled as a shop, and, as such, was sound proof. No one would find them in here, and he could say what he needed to say.

 

"What the hell, Steve!" She barked as he closed the door behind himself.

 

"I want you to listen to me for once, Darcy!" He looked over her, stepping forward and getting into her space until she was backed up against the nearest vehicle. "Just because I don't want to see you get hurt, just because I don't like having to sit back and watch you throw yourself into one stupid situation after another does not mean I think you can't take care of yourself most of the time, but when you go out and pull reckless stunts like this then, yes, I worry that you're gonna do something that you won't be able to wiggle your way out of. You aren't invincible, Darcy. You're going to be seriously in trouble one of these days if you don't stop acting like nothing can touch you."

 

"You think I think I'm invincible!? Oh, that's fucking rich coming from Mr. Daredevil here. I've seen you during your training sessions. Some of the stunts you’ve pulled..."

 

"That's different and you know it. Don't turn this on me, this is about you," he said pointing his finger at her chest.

 

Darcy knocked his hand away and pushed against his chest. "How is that any different? What? It's different because you’re a big strong man with an ability that makes it okay for him to get hurt? But it's not okay for me, right? Because I’m some helpless brat with a worthless power," she yelled pushing against him a second time, though it hardly budged him.

 

"That's not..." He threw his hands up in the air as his frustration with her stupid refusal to see reason, her uncanny ability to make him sound like the bad guy just because he thought she should be more careful. "Yes!" Steve yelled back. "It is different! Okay?! Is that what you want to hear!? I can take the hits. You can't!"

 

"I knew it!" She shrieked at him, hitting his shoulder. "You plan on being a hero, joining the god damned X-men in their fucking spandex tights and you think that makes you the only one capable of making an difference. So, what? I'm just supposed to sit back and do nothing? Just wait at home like a good little woman while you run off and save the world with all your muscles and your fucking healing factor!"

 

She hit him three more times while she shouted at him her tiny little fists barely registering but her words hitting every target and soft spot.

 

"Well, I won't do it! I may not be able to do what you do, but I have just as much right stand up and fight back as you do, asshole! If picketing anti-mutant douche bags is what I can do, they you bet your ass I’m going to do it! I don't care what they throw at me!" She finished, stepping back, her chest heaving and her cheeks burning with her exertion and emotion.

 

"Dammit, Darcy!" Steve cursed back, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her back against the car again. "Don't you get it? I can be shot, or stabbed, or thrown through a wall, and I can walk away from that, but you..." he choked on his emotion. Staring down at her wide blue eyes, determined and passionate, he knew he was wasting his breath. She was fragile, it was true, but she was also so strong and brave and she knew exactly what she wanted and she always went after it until she got it. It was part of what he lo-liked about her so much. "If something happened to you..." He felt panic crawling its way up his spine.

 

She was never going to change, she was always going to be the reckless, head strong woman charging into every bad situation she came across, regardless of whether she was the best person to help or not. She was always going to be in the thick of things, and he wouldn't always be there to protect her. It was only a matter of time before Darcy Lewis got into a fight she couldn't win. She would lose, and he would lose her.

 

Steve's face was a window right into every thought and emotion he was having, and Darcy watched it all. He thought she was a liability. Sure, he cared about her, but not as an equal, just as some weak thing to be protected, some pretty, useless bobble to be locked away, safe and sound.

 

She hated it, hated how he made her feel.

 

"I won't be able to get over that. If you get yourself killed I'll..."

 

She needed him to stop talking, couldn't stand to hear another word. If he finished his thought she was going to start to hate Steve Rogers, and she didn't want to do that. She never wanted to do that, because when he wasn't being an elitist Neanderthal he was kind and good and honest and sweet.

 

Darcy curled her fingers into his t-shirt and tugged him down to her. Lifting her face, she pressed her lips against his, hard and clumsy and desperate. Anything to shut him up.

 

He gasped in surprise and she slipped her tongue between his lips, tilting her head to fit them together better. She brushed the roof of his mouth and he moaned helplessly, his hands on her shoulders moving up to tangle in her hair and tip her head back farther. His need to enforce his will on her translated into a fierce determination to dominate her.

 

Steve took over the kiss, his tongue working back against hers, sliding hot and firm against hers, tasting and claiming. He kissed like he fought, all out, no holds barred, determined to conquer. Darcy fought back, challenged his domination at every turn, using every ounce of skill at her disposal to bend him to her will, bring him to his knees.

 

He pinned her against the side of the car, his body leaning into hers, his knees bending to crowd more of his bulk against her shorter frame. He dragged one hand from her hair and gripped her hip, her curves feeling so soft and perfect in his hand. All the rage at the people who had hurt her, all his frustrated need to protect her lingered, but now it was overshadowed by his want. She was his bright burning Darcy and her dangerous dreams and bigger-than-life goals, her mischievous spirit and fun loving ways, all packed into her voluptuous body, brilliant eyes and lush, kissable lips overpowered his good sense.

 

He could feel her breasts press to his chest when she slid her arms around his neck and into his hair, her back arching to get them just so. All that soft warmth and her wicked tongue, swirling against his own coaxing him into her mouth so that she could suck and... Fuck, he was harder than he'd ever been in his whole life. There was no way she couldn't feel it, pressed between them like he was.

 

Darcy rocked her hips just right and he pulled his face away, gasping and wrestling for control. He had to find some damn control. This was his friend Darcy, the one he'd sworn he wouldn’t touch, the one who would graduate with him in a couple weeks and then go off to Culver with Jane. This was a bad idea. He couldn't...

 

"Darcy," he started, but she wasn't having it.

 

"Shut the fuck up, Rogers," she commanded, and then pressed her mouth back to his, pulling his bottom lip between her teeth and biting down.

 

It sort of hurt, but it also sent a bolt of need right down to his dick. She lifted one thigh, curling around his hips and bringing her heat closer to him and he was lost again. She felt too good. She was making him feel too good. His blood was already pumping from their fight, his emotions hot and reason had fled long before she'd even touched him.

 

Steve lifted her other leg up as well, holding tight to the backs of her thighs and grinding himself hard against her center as he sought some way to alleviate the overwhelming desire to be closer to her, against her, inside her.

 

He should fight it, he knew, he should be stronger than his lust for her, but he just...wasn't.

 

Burying his face against her neck he humped against her, moaning and breathing in her scent and her taste as his mouth found her skin, drowning in the feel of her.

 

Darcy was making breathy, needy little sounds against his ear, her fingers dragging, demanding, on his scalp, and neck, and shoulder. She flexed and arched and moved with him, and he wondered how it was even possible he hadn't burned away to ash and cinder already.

 

His legs were starting to shake, his whole body quivering with tension and he had a thought to be careful with her, gentle, but then she clamped her mouth down on the tendon in his neck and sucked and he forgot about careful and gentle.  He gripped her tightly and turned them, seeking a place to lay her so that he could focus on more than staying on his feet. He wanted to test the weight of her breasts with his hands, her glorious, full breasts. He wanted to find out what color her underwear was. He'd spent a wildly inappropriate number of hours speculating on the color and cut of her panties, and now he wanted to finally see, damn it!

 

There was a large table towards one corner of the shop area where students could draft plans or look at schematics. Steve dropped Darcy's ass onto the top of it and moved his hands up to push under the hem of her shirt. She pulled her mouth away from his neck long enough to rip her shirt off over her head and then went back to seeing how many hickies she could give him before they started to fade.

 

Steve was torn. What she was doing hurt so good, her mouth on him a sharp slice of heaven, but he also wanted to push her away so he could see her. He settled for tracing her form with his hands, using the method of the blind to fix her shape in his mind.

 

He caressed her back, gripped the swell of her hips, and cupped her waist, his thumbs counting each solid ridge made by her ribs as he moved his hands higher. When they hit the hard curve of her underwire he couldn't wait any longer.

 

Pulling back, he nearly smirked at the complaining whimper that Darcy made, but quickly became distracted by the lust glazed look on her face, her swollen lips, cherry red and puffy, her eyes half lidded and pupils blown. He followed the pale line of her throat down, past the curve of her clavicle, and lower, to the shadowed dip of her cleavage. The creamy white satin of her bra molding to the generous bounty of her tits and giving him tiny fits of jealousy.

 

He dived in, kissing the upper swell of one breast before moving to the other. Her hands were in his hair again, pulling his face tighter to her chest until his kisses grew hard and needy. He nipped at one satin-covered nipple and she whined high and loud. Then the silkily fabric was bunching around his face and he realized she'd undone the clasp with one hand.

 

The straps dropped over her shoulders and slid it the bend of her elbows. He grabbed the front of it and jerked roughly, letting her bra fall to the floor, once it was untangled from her limbs. Steve had his hands and mouth on her instantly, starving for her.

 

"Steve..." Darcy moaned and pulled her nails over the back of his neck as he sucked hard and desperate on one nipple. "Oh god, please..."

 

She tugged on his t-shirt and he released her to strip it off in a rush of movement. It became a battle then, both of them trying to touch and feel and put their mouths on the other. He settled for mouthing at the top of her shoulder while she nipped and licked along his pecs. Then it was her turn to submit while he pressed her breasts together and buried his face between them, leaning back with her hands braced on the table behind her. Darcy wrapped her legs tight around his waist again and pulled him to her, getting him to rub right up against her.

 

It seemed impossible that he'd forgotten how much he needed to be there, needed to press into that place, but it had been overshadowed by his want of the rest of her. That need came roaring back, front and center once again, as she rocked against him, making sounds he'd only dreamed about at night.

 

Gripping the waistband of her leggings he pushed his hands inside, shoving them over her hips until they caught between her ass and the table. He happened to glance up at her face then, and caught sight of the bruised scrap on her right cheek.

 

He had a sudden moment of crystal sharp clarity and froze.

 

Sensing the sudden tension in his body Darcy hesitated, one hand coming up to brush back a strand of hair from her face as she tried to catch her breath while she studied him. She was so beautiful. She always had been, but now...

 

Darcy was breathtaking and he had his hands on her ass, ready to strip her of her bottoms so that he could...

 

He stood on the edge of precipice, a decision to make.

 

Should he do this?

 

Should he let this happen? God, he wanted her so badly, but he could feel the regret building in the back of his mind. If he went through with it, if he...if he fucked Darcy here, right now, on the table in the garage of the mansion, he knew that regret would follow him forever.

 

The question was this: Would it be worse than the regret he'd feel if he stopped, if he gave up the chance to be with the girl that he...she was the girl he had wanted almost more than he could stand for so long.

 

Steve could tell by the way his pause had made her face go blank that she would be so angry with him if he stopped now, even more angry that she'd been before, perhaps. Maybe angry enough to never speak to him again.

 

That might be the worst thing he could imagine.

 

He stepped back far enough to pull her leggings down her thighs and tug them off with her boots. Darcy gasped in relief and helped by lifting her hips. His eyes fell on her cotton briefs. They were French cut, dark teal with big yellow polka dots.

 

He groaned, letting the sight of them draw him back into the rip tide of his lust and pressed his face to the front of them. Breathing in deep the scent of her arousal, he pressed his mouth in a heated kiss to her mound.

 

She drew him up then, hand under his chin and kissed him rough and hungry. She was bouncing and wiggling and he pulled back enough to see that she was trying to work her underwear off without getting off the table. Steve felt it only right to assist her struggles, pulling on them and sliding them down and off her legs and tossing the over his shoulder.

 

Things moved pretty quickly after that. Darcy pushed his sweatpants down to his thighs and squeezing his length firmly, making him twitch and jerk against her as he tried to fight down the insistent pull to blow his load all over her soft hands.

 

"Jesus," he complained, though it was an empty complaint that hid a prayer that he would last long enough to make it good for her. He grabbed her ass and pulled her to the very edge of the table, sparing a thought to be glad it was laminated ceramic rather than wood.

 

And then she was pressing him against her, rubbing him up and down against her clit a few times before pushing down and slotting him against her opening. With her legs around his waist again she pulled and he was pushing in.

 

After that all he could thing was wet and hot and tight and fuck.

 

She gripped him tightly as he started moving in and out, with both her arms and legs. It was a bit of a struggle for them to find a good rhythm, as they were both so worked up at this point coherency was such a distant dream that communication and cooperation were impossible.

 

Frustrated, Steve pushed on her shoulder until Darcy followed his non-verbal demand and lay back on the table. That allowed him to hold on to her waist and hips and set a pace that they both seemed happy with.

 

Darcy held her breasts after they bounced painfully a few times from the force of Steve's thrusts, which let her both support and pleasure them. She twisted and tugged on her nipples as he pounded her vigorously.

 

She wanted to talk, wanted to babble on and on about how much she liked him, how much she'd always wanted this to happen, but also tell him how stupid he was for treating her like a child. Obviously, she wasn't a child and he didn't even think of her as one. She bit her lip, though, knowing this wouldn't change his attitude about her ability to take care of herself, knowing that it would probably make it worse.

 

She kept her words to herself and let him have her sounds. He had earned those, at any rate, all the whimpers and moans and breathy sighs. She gave those freely.

 

After a few minutes she noticed his breathing getting harder and his hips starting to stagger and lose their steady tempo.

 

She felt good, she felt amazing, but she wasn't that close to coming. He obviously was, though. She tried to push down the rising anxiety. This was about to end, but she didn't want it to be over, yet. Not just because she hadn't come yet, but because she knew once Steve had he would put back on his armor, and shield himself with his guilt and she would never get close to him again. She'd already seen the signs of it in his eyes. All the things they were trying to ignore, to forget existed by focusing on their pleasure, all those feelings and thoughts would be there waiting when the endorphin rush waned.

 

"Fuck, Darcy," he grunted, and she felt just as surprised by his cussing as she was by him pulling out  and coming over her thighs and stomach and breasts. The little stripes of were white hot and sticky on her skin, and she shivered as the air in the garage cooled them rapidly and painted her in goosebumps.

 

Steve folded over her when he finished, resting his face on her stomach, his arms bracing on the table beside her hips as he tried to catch his breath. Darcy tried to hold onto the feeling of his skin warm on hers as he turned his face to kiss her stomach dreamily. His come was sticking between them where they touched and she wondered if he was tasting it on her.

 

That thought sent a jolt of heat and wet between her legs, and she mourned the emptiness she felt there now. She shut her eyes and wished she had the ability to stop time so that she could keep them here in this moment for as long as she wanted. She wished that the rest of the world would just fuck off and leave them alone, that there were no professors, no protestors, no villains, no expectations, no demands.

 

No Buckys.

 

Fuck. She'd totally forgotten about Bucky.

 

Damn it.

 

She was such a fuck up.

 

Steve must have sensed her sudden tension, because he shifted, putting space between them, though he didn't seem quite ready to look her in the eye yet, so he left his face where it was.

 

"Sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered and she knew the moment had come.

 

Darcy pushed against his shoulder until he relented and pulled off of her completely, standing and taking an unsteady step back.

 

"Its fine, Steve," she murmured as she sat up.

 

"Did you-?" He gestured awkwardly between her legs and she suddenly felt too exposed and vulnerable and angry and humiliated.

 

"Don't worry about it," she said a little more forcefully as she slid to her feet and started looking for her clothes. "I said it was fine." His semen was cold and tacky on her skin when she crouched down to pick up her leggings, bra, and shirt and she just wanted it gone, just wanted to be dressed and warm and gone.

 

Damage control, she needed to do damage control.

 

She liked Steve, would always like Steve, probably, but he'd made it pretty clear he didn't want to be more than friends, despite his just having given into his teenage lust and fucked her on the shop table. He was a 17 year old male, though, so she couldn't really hold that against him. She'd sort of jumped him, after all.

 

And she did like Bucky, even though she'd originally only intended to use him as a distraction during the last few months before graduation. He'd been surprisingly sweet, though, and charming, and wooed her with enthusiasm. They'd messed around some, but they hadn't slept together, yet. They hadn't even had the talk, yet, so it wasn't technically cheating, but...

 

No, that was a lie. Even if they hadn't agreed to be exclusive yet, it was sort of implied, and it was still a massively shitty thing to sleep with his best friend.

 

She pulled on her leggings first, not seeing her panties anywhere in the poorly lit space and not wanting to take time to search for them. Bra and shirt followed, and she winced at the feel of her clothes over the smears of his seed on her skin.

 

She didn't even bother putting on her boots, just picked them up and gripped them in front of her.

 

Steve had pulled his sweat pants up and was using his shirt to wipe the residue off his chest and stomach. He was not looking at Darcy.

 

She cleared her throat. "Um, Rogers?" She asked coldly, putting some distance between them both physical and emotionally. He glanced up her and his face was blank, his eyes hollow. "Can you not mention this to Barnes? Please?"

 

Surprise, then realization, followed by guilt and then anger flashed through his eyes and he clenched his jaw and looked away. "You and he are...?"

 

Darcy shrugged. She was sort of shocked he didn't know. "I think we were headed that way, maybe," she confessed. "I'm gonna tell him, I just... I think it should come from me, you know"

 

Steve fixed his eyes on something off in the darkness and nodded. "Sure, Lewis, if that's what you want."

 

_Lewis._

 

It hit her like a punch to the gut, but she figured it was only fair. Again, she’d started it.

 

"Okay, well..." She started, feeling the need to be far away starting to chock her. There wasn't really anything left to say, and he didn't seem to paying any attention to her anyway, so she turned and left.

 

Steve watched the door close behind her and then slammed his fists down on the table.

 

"Fuck!"

 

He felt the skin break and bones grind, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

 

He hadn't know, but he should have... Bucky hadn't been around much lately. Steve had sort of assumed his friend was just busy getting ready for finals and graduation. He'd never said anything to Steve about Darcy, though that made sense, seeing as how Bucky sort of knew how Steve felt about her, though he'd tried to deny it...

 

And now...

 

He never should have dragged her in here. He should have let her go, should have ignored his urge to yell at her for scaring him so badly by getting hurt.

 

Taking a deep breath, Steve pushed away from the table, his stained shirt still in his bloody streaked fist. He used it to wipe the blood away, as well as any trace of anything else.

 

It was only two weeks till graduation. He could ignore this had happened for that long, as long as Bucky didn't come after him and beat the shit out of him. He wondered if Bucky froze his balls off if they grow back.

 

That was food for thought.

 

He made one last glance around, spotting a flash of yellow under the car he'd pinned Darcy against after she kissed him. He huffed at the way his cock twitched at the memory and bent to retrieve the wadded up ball.

 

He realized almost immediately what it was. Feeling heat flush his chest and face, he shoved Darcy's polka dotted panties into his sweatpants pocket.

 

He would try to give them back to her later, maybe. If they weren't too busy avoiding each other.

 

As he left the garage and walked past the kitchen door on the way to the boy’s dorm, it struck Steve that he wasn't hungry. Not even a little bit.

 

He'd gone to the kitchen because his increased metabolism demanded he eat every few hours. His late evening snacks were Fury approved, but he was still almost always hungry, even when he did eat regularly. Now though...

 

He felt amazing.

 

It wasn't the sex. Sex usually made him hungrier, all physical exertion did, but right now he felt... He felt good, satisfied.

 

What the hell?

 

He decided it didn't matter. It was just one more thing to add to his list of things to think about later. Way later.

 

As he climbed the stairs, Steve hung his head and prayed that Bucky was already asleep. The longer he had before he had to look his friend in the eye, the better.

 

Geez, he'd really screwed the pooch this time.    

 

Maybe eventually Bucky would forgive him. Maybe eventually Darcy would forgive him. Maybe eventually he'd forgive himself.

 

He fingered the cotton wad in his pocket and had to fight the impulse to lift it to his face and breath deep.

 

Then again, maybe not.


	3. There’s Just an Echo Where Your Heart Used To Be

James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes prided himself on his chill.

 

Ha ha, yes, pun intended, but aside from his mutant ability, he liked being the guy that was laid back, the guy that wasn't easily ruffled. It wasn't that he was apathetic about things, he did care. He just didn't usually let himself loose his cool about the small stuff.

 

Which is why he was extra frustrated about how much he was freaking out about graduation and finals and Darcy...

 

He'd hardly seen his girlfriend at all in the last week. Between finals and her punishment for sneaking out to go to that protest they hadn't spent more than three or four minutes together, and that was mostly in passing. He'd had time to notice the mark on her cheek and get upset about her getting hurt, and she'd had time to tell him she was fine, that it was nothing, but she'd seemed shifty about it and he knew there was more to the story.

 

There was always more to the story with Darcy.

 

It was one of the things he had always loved about her. Even before they'd gotten tipsy on Professor Romanoff's vodka and made out in the basement, before they'd started spending a lot of time together, before they'd started dating, it felt like he'd always had a thing for her. Of course, he'd thought Steve had a thing for her, too, so he'd kept his distance.

 

For whatever reason, though, Steve had abdicated. Bucky wasn't going to complain. His best friend sometimes had a stick up his ass for the dumbest reasons.

 

Still, he imagined that if he'd followed his friend's example he wouldn't be half as stressed out as he was right now.

 

Sitting at his desk in their shared dorm room, Bucky stared down at the late-admission application for Culver University. He couldn't believe he was seriously considering sending it in. He must be, though, because he'd filled it out.

 

Bucky had always imagined his life following right along with Steve's. Graduation, then serious training to become an X-Man, then living and fighting with the team. His future had been filled with a series of missions, one after the other, nothing but the fight for the greater good.

 

Now, though...

 

It wasn't just the idea of following Darcy, of getting to stay with her and figure out what their future might be together, it was also the fact that spending time with her meant spending time with Jane, Bruce, and Tony.

 

With the three of them around, the topics of science and invention and discovery were inevitable, and Bucky, who had only ever put minimal effort into his studies and pulled off a B average, was suddenly considering what it might be like to be passionate about learning and knowledge.

 

For the first time he was considering wanting something more for his life, more than just training and fighting and palling around with Steve. It was a strange feeling.

 

It was also stressful as hell.

 

What if he applied and didn't get in? What if he did get in, but then couldn't afford to go? His parents had been saving for his college since the day they found out Bucky's mom was pregnant, but that had been before his abilities had manifest, before they'd freaked out and called the CDC, before he'd run away and found his way to Fury's School for Gifted Youngsters.

 

Applying to college meant he might have to reach out to his family.

 

If anything had the ability to stress him out it was the idea of calling his parents up on the phone.

 

Bucky had a lot to consider, a lot to decide. No big deal; it was only the rest of his life.

 

He pushed away from the desk and stood up, pacing for a few minutes before deciding he'd think better on a full stomach. He didn't want to have to go all the way down to the kitchen, though.

 

Good thing Steve always kept snacks in his dresser. Bucky didn't think his friend would mind if he snagged a bag of chips.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Steve’s gait was slow and thoughtful as he walked the distance between the medical wing and the guy’s dorms.

 

Dr. Simmons had confirmed that the strange spikes in his strength and speed he had experienced at the beginning of the week had dropped back to normal. She wanted him to schedule time with Dr. Cho to make sure that the instability was minor and not a sign of his mutation growing out of control.

 

Steve had agreed, but in his mind he already had a theory. The question that he pondered now was whether or not he should he tell the school’s doctors, or anyone else, for that matter, what he suspected was the cause of his short burst in increased physical ability.

 

Really, he mostly wondered if he should tell Darcy.

 

They hadn’t spoken since that night in the garage. He’d barely even seen her, for which he’d been somewhat grateful. It would have been hard to hide the fact that she was constantly in his thoughts if he'd been forced to face her.

 

He figured she would probably find out eventually, if the science guys really did start running all kinds of tests on his abilities. Steve wasn’t sure how she’d reacted to the idea that her…

 

His train of thought completely derailed as he stepped into his room and shut the door behind him, noticing Bucky was there, sitting on Steve’s bed with his fists clenched, elbows resting on his knees and his head bowed.

 

One look and the blond figured Darcy had finally gotten around to telling Bucky what had happened. He’d sort of been avoiding his best friend as much as possible, waiting for the news to drop, but there was no use putting it off forever.

 

“Bucky,” he said quietly, stepping closer so that he could eye his friend cautiously.

 

The brunet’s forehead wrinkled up as a confused frown crossed his face, but he didn’t look up to meet Steve’s gaze. That probably meant this was going to go even worse that he’d feared.

 

“Bucky, I’m so so-” he started, but Bucky cut him off.

 

His friend's voice was low and calm, deceptively so, if the stiff movement of his jaw was anything to go by.

 

“I keep sitting here thinking, ‘There’s got to be another DL that I’m just forgetting. I mean, there’s Donnie Lancaster, but unless you both have a secret you’ve been hiding all these years, I just can’t imagine these are his.” His left fist unclenched and a small wad of fabric unfurled and hung off the end of Bucky’s finger. “But I have to be forgetting someone, because there’s absolutely no logical fucking reason that the initials inked into this tag could mean who I think it does.”

 

The teal briefs with yellow polka dots that belonged to Bucky’s girlfriend, the ones Steve had hidden in the corner of his sock drawer while he figured out what to do with them after she’d left them on the floor of the garage, after he’d removed them… Before he’d fucked her on the table…

 

Steve was not a great liar. Never had been, and had never wanted to be- until this moment. He was sure the truth of what he’d done was written all over his beet-red face.

 

He was half tempted to start spewing excuses, or start begging for Bucky’s forgiveness, but from the look on the other boy's face when he glanced up, those eyes burning with betrayal and confusion and rage, Steve figured none of that would be welcome.

 

He wanted to stay quiet, really he did, but the part of him that was angry and frustrated about this whole fucked up situation had flipped on and he was taking a defensive stance and blurting, “You went through my things?” before he realized his lips were even moving.

 

“No, I didn’t go through your things,” Bucky spat, his confusion melting away to be replaced with disgust and hatred. “I was looking for something to eat. I did mean to stumble on your dirty little secret, Steve.” He’d imbued his friend’s name with a special kind of venom.

 

He stood quickly, startling Steve into taking a step backwards and putting his hands up.

 

“What the hell, man!? You told me you weren’t interested. You said you didn’t care if I started dating Darcy. So why the fuck do you have a pair of her underwear in your drawer? Did you steal them out of the laundry? Sneak into her room? I mean… I never figured you for the kind of pervert that got off on…”

 

Words seemed to fail Bucky, as if he wasn’t even sure what it was Steve was getting off on.

 

Steve just felt like Bucky had socked him in the stomach.

 

Bucky didn't know.

 

Darcy hadn’t told him.

 

Whatever his friend was imaging, it was nowhere near as horrible as the truth.

 

Steve swallowed hard and looked down, trying to find the words.

 

Maybe he could just let Bucky think he was some kind of stalker perv. That would be easier, right?

 

For a moment Steve felt a real and vibrant anger at Darcy burn up his throat for not keeping her word and telling Bucky, for leaving him in the position of having to confessing his sins to his best friend- someone he cared deeply for, someone he’d hurt just as deeply.

 

“Are you just going to stand there? Or are you going to tell me why-” Bucky shouted, but it was Steve’s turn to cut him off, apparently.

 

“I was waiting to give them back to her. She left them behind, and I-” he stopped, the admission suddenly too awful to say aloud. “I just haven’t seen her lately, so I still have them.”

 

Bucky’s fury faltered and his confusion returned. “She left them? Where? Here?”

 

Steve could see the thoughts whirling in the boy’s blue-grey eyes until all the pieces clicked into place. His next question was the only one that really mattered.

 

“When?”

 

Steve winced and shoved his hands in his pockets, his eyes sliding away from Bucky’s desperate, hopeful gaze. Hopeful, because as shitty as it might be that Steve had hooked up with Darcy and not told his friend about it, if it was a thing of the distant past then...well that might be considered a minor infraction, a thing that could be easily forgive.

 

If only Steve could lie.

 

“WHEN!?” Bucky screamed, his hope evaporating in the face of Steve’s shame riddled silence. He rushed forward and got his fists in the blond’s shirt, jerking him up and in.

 

Steve gasped, shocked at Bucky’s violence and vehemence. “Last week,” he answered, the words rushing out in a strangled, truthful blow.

 

Bucky shoved him, sending him crashing against the other bed and tumbling gracelessly to the floor before jumping on him and punching him hard across the jaw.

 

Steve let him get the first blow in, figured he owed him that much at least, but blocked the second, catching his friend’s fist in his big palm.

 

“Jesus, Buck!” He cursed as the other boy drew the heat from Steve’s fingers and left it frozen and burning with cold. Steve released his hand then and tried shoving the outraged friend off of him. “I’m sorry, okay! I didn’t know! I didn’t know about you and her till after!” He babbled as he tried to ward off his friend’s attack.

 

“Oh! So this is my fault! Or all Darcy’s fault? Is that what you're saying?” Bucky sneered as he landed an elbow across Steve’s temple.

 

“NO!” Steve bellowed and used all his enhanced strength to shove Bucky off. Once the weight was off his chest Steve scrambled to his feet and raised his fists in a defensive stance. “No, it’s my fault,” he admitted, shaking his head and feeling a trickle of blood from his lip on his chin. “I SHOULD have known. I should have, but I just...I didn’t want to see. I just…”

 

They stood facing each other, breathing hard, hair mussed and faces red with anger and exertion from their fight. The yellow spotted underwear lay discarded on the floor between their feet.

 

“How?” Bucky asked, his face twisting with pain as he stared at them, his eyes tearing up and his lips curling and his chin quivering.

 

Steve didn’t know if he meant ‘how did it happen,’ or simply ‘how could you,’ but he knew it wouldn’t really matter. He’d greatly underestimated how much his friend felt for the curvy brunette. Bucky was the least emotional person Steve knew, or at least the best at hiding his feelings, and to see him nearly coming apart, ready to shed tears over this betrayal…

 

“Last week, when she got back from the protest,” Steve explained, knowing it wouldn’t help, but knowing he didn’t want to hurt his friend even more by hiding things and lying to him. “I ran into her in the kitchen. I saw her face and...we fought.”

 

That seemed to startle Bucky. “You fought!? Then how…”

 

“I don’t know, okay!?” Steve shouted, throwing his arms and up and turning to glare at his sock drawer, still half open. “One minute we were screaming at each other, and I was so pissed about her sneaking out again and getting herself hurt, and then it just happened. I don’t- I don’t know how. We just- I just-”

 

The fight went out of Steve and he plopped down onto Bucky’s bed, defeated and powerless in the face of Bucky’s pain.

 

“I was telling her what an idiot she was one minute and the next… We were kissing and it just...it just spiraled out of control. And after...when she told me you two were basically together, I just felt so awful. I ignored all the signs, I should have seen, but I just didn’t even think…” Steve just kept rambling, wanting to explain, but not wanting to give Bucky any of the specifics because he didn’t want to hurt him any more that he already was.

 

He might as well have told him all the gritty details.

 

“You didn’t even think about me for a second. Didn’t think about how I’d feel, about how I FEEL about her. You couldn’t give two shits about me at all, could you? You’ve always wanted to fuck her and the second you get steamed enough to forget the giant stick up your ass, you did.”

 

Bucky’s hands went into his hair and he pulled at it and let out an angry roar. The heels of his hands pressed hard into his eyes as he stood there, chest heaving and pulse pounding, obviously distraught, and Steve wanted to reach out to him, wanted to explain how Darcy was his Kryptonite, how he never wanted to let her close because she made him week, made him stupid.

 

He’d made a mistake, a huge, critical mistake and now she was under his skin like a blade, cutting at his very sense of self, and he could see that same blade working at his friend, tearing him apart, and he only wanted it to stop, only wanted all the pain to end for both of them, but he would gladly take that suffering from Bucky, if he could. He’d never wanted this, never wanted any of this.

 

Bucky’s next words were as cold as the ice that he could control.

 

“Saint Steven,” he said, and scoffed lightly, his hands falling to his side. “Everyone always called you a self-righteous asshole, but I knew you always just wanted to do the right thing. They said you were a perfect goody-two shoes that thought you were better than everyone else, but I always knew you weren’t perfect, knew you just held yourself to a higher standard. I always knew it was a matter of time before you screwed up badly enough for people to see that.”

 

When he looked up this time, his face was totally blank, his eyes like the sky reflected in a glacial lake, perfectly cold and still.

 

“Why’d it have to be like this? With her?” He asked, his voice cracking enough at the end to know how deep his hurt ran.

 

Steve’s heart was breaking. He was ready to do whatever it took to make this right. Ready to beg for forgiveness, ready to let his friend beat him up some more. He’d apologize until he ran out of breath, suffer whatever punishment Bucky deemed necessary. Anything.

 

“Bucky, I-” Steve started, but he was cut off one more time.

 

“James,” Bucky said without explanation.

 

“What?” He asked, confusion making Steve scowl.

 

“Only my friends are allowed to call me Bucky, and you’re obviously no friend of mine.”

 

“Buck-” Steve gasped, half in shock, half in protest. “I’m sorry! I don’t know how to tell you how sorry I am, I never wanted to hurt you. I screwed up, I know I did, but I’m still… You’re my best friend, and would never forgive myself if I ruined our friendship.”

 

“Guess that makes two of us,” Bucky-James said and turned to walk towards the door.

 

“Wait! Please! There has to be some way to fix this- Something I can do to-” Steve pleaded, reaching out for Buck’s arm as he passed, but his skin was so cold it burned, and he had to jerk his hand away.

 

“You can go fuck yourself, Steven, that’s what you can do. I’m done.”

 

All the air left Steve’s lungs in a rush and he stood, stunned as his- as James left. When his eyes fell from the door, which shut with a bang, they found yellow polka-dots and he’d never wished so hard that his power was setting things on fire.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Darcy was finished.

 

She was exhausted, but she was finished. She dusted the dirt off her pants and tucked the work gloves into her pocket.

 

Every moment not spent in class taking her finals, or studying, or sleeping, she had been doing some kind of manual labor around the mansion. Professors Barton and Coulson had wanted to make sure she didn’t have enough time to get in more trouble before graduation. Next week she’d be busy with packing and getting ready for the move to Virginia to start the rest of her life.

 

She couldn’t believe it was almost time to leave. There were things she was going to miss about this place, people mostly, but that’s what cell phones were for, right? Talking to the people you cared about?

 

Speaking of- Darcy was going to take a long hot shower and then she needed to find Bucky. All she wanted to do was collapse into her bed for 24 hours or so, but she’d put off telling him long enough.

 

She kept telling herself that this was probably for the best, that this way they could make a complete break, if not a clean one. She messed up big time and she could he’d probably be glad she was leaving after she told him. It would suck for her, she’d come to really like Bucky the last few weeks.

 

He’d surprised her.

 

She’d always seen him as a bit shallow, a bit of player, a bit of a clown, but he’d proven her wrong at every turn. He’d been sweet and caring and hadn’t pushed her for more than she was willing to give, and he’d been great with Jane and the Brains. He was wildly more intelligent than he let on, and so funny…

 

God, he was so great and she’d had to go and screw it's all up by screwing his best friend in a fit of hormonal/emotional madness. He deserved so much better than her…

 

She glanced up as she climbed the stairs in the main hall to see the man in question descending in a hurry.

 

Speak of the devil…

 

“Bucky!” She called out to him and his head snapped up, his eyes catching hers for an instant and then he was looking past her, then back at his feet as his pace slowed and he paused on the stairs above her.

 

“Hey, Lewis,” he mumbled.

 

“I’m glad I ran into you,” she said, stopping a couple steps below him. “I need to talk to you about something, actually. I was gonna clean up and then maybe we could meet up, if you're free?”

 

“You can save the heartfelt confession. I already know what you’re going to say, so how bout we skip it, huh?” There was a rueful, bitter tone to his words as he turned his head to look everywhere but right at her.

 

Wait. He knew?

 

Darcy frowned. “How did-” her words fell off as she realized the only way he could have found out. “Steve told you.” She swallowed hard and glanced down to watch her hands fiddle with the hem of her t-shirt. “I asked him to let me tell you. I was going to do it sooner, but Barton-”

 

“Yeah, I get it, Lewis. It’s not like it was too important to wait or anything,” he said, and his sarcastic words belied the casual way he spoke them.

 

“Oh, fuck,” she cursed under her breath. “I know, I know, and I’m so so sorry, Bucky. I can’t even make any excuses, I don’t even know… I have no defense, I totally screwed up and I know it. I’m so, so sorry.”

 

She hadn’t wanted to have this conversation in the main hall, but it wasn’t like she could put it off now. Not that she wanted to. She just hoped she could say what she needed to say before they were interrupted.

 

“I really like you, Bucky. I do. The last few weeks with you have been...really, really great, actually, and I just… I know I ruined things. I never wanted to hurt you…”

 

“You can save it. I don’t want to hear all the gory details, and I don’t want to hear how much you really liked me, okay? That just makes it...makes it worse, somehow,” he said, his face shifting with repressed emotion and his eyes still not meeting hers. “I know Steve is the one you always wanted. I knew he wanted you, too, but I just couldn't stop myself from falling in love with you anyway, like the world's biggest idiot.”

 

Darcy gaped at him. “You...you l-love me?” She stammered, her brain refusing to compute. “No, I mean, we’ve only been...It’s only been a few weeks,” she declared, as if that was the only thing to say.

 

“For you,” he said, a self-deprecating sneer making his lips curl. “For you it's only been a few weeks. I’ve been half in love with you since you bandaged my hand in Professor Morse’ class Sophomore year.”

 

He’d been goofing off with one of the scalpels when they were supposed to be dissecting frogs. He’d hidden his bloody hand in his pocket until class ended, not wanting to get in trouble for messing around, but she’d noticed the blood stain on his jeans and dragged him into the girls’ bathroom to scold him and patch him up with a tampon and some scotch tape. She’d been so bold and beautiful and kind, he thought his heart might stop and his lungs might collapse from the weight of wanting to kiss her. Any attempts at asking her out had been shrugged off as his just being his normal, flirty self, and when they’d left the bathroom and found Steve waiting…

 

Her eyes had lit up at his blond friend’s gratitude for taking care of him, and she’d blushed and stammered that it was nothing, Bucky basically forgotten in lieu of her obvious crush.

 

“I never did or said anything cause I never thought you’d give me a chance, never thought you’d be able see me passed Steve’s brilliant perfection,” he added sadly, and landed the final blow that really and truly broke her heart when he finished with, “Guess I was right,” before brushing by her and leaving her standing there with tears shining in her eyes.

 

The worst part, she thought, was that he wasn’t wrong, not really.

 

Darcy had had her eye on Steven Grant Rogers since the day he showed up at the mansion, a skin and bones kid with the most beautiful blue eyes and pouty full lips she’d ever seen. Her affection had only grown when she got to know him, found out what an incredibly kind and good person he was. He’d filled out pretty quickly, shooting up in height and weight after the doctors at the school had identified his mutation and how to stabilize it and everyone had been drawn to him. She’d tried to play it cool, because they were friends, and he usually already had a girlfriend, but she’d secretly hoped they might get together one day.

 

All that Friends to Lovers bullshit they always showed in the movies.

 

Except, the movies never showed you what to do when your crush thought you were weak and foolish. Or what to do when the two of you finally hooked up after all the years of pent up want and frustration while you were dating his best friend.

 

She let all her helpless anger and heartache channel towards one person. Before she got in the shower she sent three texts and then turned off her phone.

 

  

* * *

 

 

 

Bucky felt inches away from his body tearing itself apart. His mind was reeling, his body surging with adrenaline fueled by his anger and frustration. Then, underneath it all, was the cold, blunt fingers of grief and loss and hopelessness that curled up in a fist of self-pity that sat around his heart, squeezing periodically, just to remind him that his life was a total shitbox.

 

He’d been somewhat confused about what he wanted to do with his life before the atomic bomb of awful had fallen into it. Now? Now he was so fucking lost he wasn’t even sure how he was supposed to find his next breath.

 

Somehow, Bucky had made his way into town. He was paying much attention to how he’d gotten there. His only focus was to get out, get away from the source of his pain. Sources of his pain- plural. He wasn’t sure what he was doing or where he was going, or what he was going to do about… well, about anything, actually.

 

The spring weather was warm enough, he noticed that he had started to sweat. Taking a hold of his powers, he chilled the air around him. Focusing on his body like that made him realize just how parched he was.

 

Bucky moved on autopilot, checking his wallet and, finding a few dollars cash inside, and angled his path towards a gas station across the street. The bell over the door was just one more thing that jangled against his stressed and frayed nerves, but he did his best to ignore it, to block everything out again as he made his way to the back of the long, narrow aisles to the coolers. He eyed the beer longingly, but found the cashier, a middle aged woman with lank blond hair and bags under her eyes, glaring at him disapprovingly when he glanced at her over his shoulder.

 

Sighing and regretting the fact that his fake ID was hidden in the back of his desk drawer, he moved over to pull a Coke from the next cooler. When he set it on the counter, Sheri (her name tag declared proudly), checked it three times, as if needing to make triple sure it wasn’t booze.

 

He fought the urge to roll his eyes and pulled out his wallet. After handing her two dollars and waiting for his change he pulled out his phone and checked it out of habit.

 

Which turned out to be a colossal mistake.

 

 **Text from Darcy** blazed across his screen.

 

Bucky stared at it, mesmerized by the potential contained in those three words.

 

“Your change?” Sheri said peevishly, and he reached out his hand for it absently.

 

After pocketing the coins, he decided the anxiety of not knowing was far worse than anything that might be contained inside, but as he pulled his hand out of his pocket to reach up and slide the text open a voice next to him startled him out of his trance.

 

“Hey, you! Mutie freak!”

 

Bucky’s head snapped up violently.

 

Just in time to witness everything go to hell.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Steve returned from the training center where he had beaten the shit out of the punching bag and demolished his record for the fastest time running the Danger Room Scenario Professor Howlett had him working on this week, he found two texts waiting for him- both from Darcy.

 

He ignored them for almost 15 minutes while he showered and changed clothes, but eventually the need to know got to be too much.

 

In this case, it was the satisfaction that proved fatal for the cat, rather than the curiosity.

**Text from Darcy**

**You are a fucking liar Steven Rogers and I hate you**

**Text from Darcy**

**I can’t believe you told Bucky!**

 

Steve glared at the words, feeling all of his frustration and anger recoil against them.

 

How dare Darcy put this all on him?! It wasn’t like it was his fault she hadn’t gotten around to telling Bucky, like she said she would. So, she was a fucking liar, too. And technically he hadn’t toldl Bucky.

 

Selecting the call button he pressed his phone to his ear and fumed, waiting for her to pick up. He was beyond pissed when it clicked right over to voicemail.

 

Was she ignoring his call?!

 

He pulled his shoes on without taking time for socks and marched himself across the mansion to the girls’ dorm wing. It wasn’t curfew, yet, so technically he was allowed to be there, but the look on his face and the tense set of his frame left a wake of silent stares behind him.

 

Pounding loudly on her door, he waited for her to answer for four whole seconds before twisting the doorknob and barging in.

 

Steve spotted Darcy laying on her bed, her hair in a damp knot and her face to the wall.

 

“What the hell, Darcy?!” he yelled.

 

“Go away, Steve. I don’t want to talk to you right now,” she sniffled quietly.

 

 Steve laughed bitterly and put his hands on his hips. “You’re being a bit hypocritical about all of this, don’t you think? I thought you were going to tell Bucky what happened, because you told me you were going to. So, don’t put this all on me.”

 

A pillow landed square in his face, though he caught it before it hit the floor.

 

By the time he looked up again, Darcy was sitting on her bed, turned toward him now so that he could see the red, puffy skin around her eyes and nose.

 

“I said go away, Steve,” she repeated, her bloodshot eyes burning with fury, though her voice stayed low. “I don’t need you to come in here and tell me how badly I screwed up, okay? I know I did. I was going to tell him, I was, but I haven’t had two seconds to breathe all week, and I…” She took a deep breath and tightened her first in the bottom of her overly-large t-shirt. “I was just going to find him and tell him tonight. Why did you have to tell him? Why couldn’t you wait just a couple more hours, huh? I would have… Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad… I’m so pissed at you! Just leave, okay.”

 

“I didn’t! For the record, I didn’t tell Bucky. He found…” Steve’s anger faltered as he realized the admission he’d almost made. “He found out all on his own.” He swallowed hard and shifted uncomfortably.

 

“How did he find out if you didn't tell him?” She asked, her eyes suspicious and angry.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” he insisted dismissively.

 

“No! Please!” She argued bitterly. “If I didn’t tell him and you didn’t tell him, then how the fuck did he find out? Cause it seemed monumentally important just exactly how Bucky found out that I cheated on him. Obviously, you thought it was a big enough deal that you had to come charging down here, ready to tell me off about the whole thing!” She said, her voice finally rising in volume and pitch.

 

With his face a beaming red, Steve shook his head and clenched his jaw.

 

“WELL!?” She screamed, standing and pushing against him, though he barely moved with the force of her shoving fists.

 

Suddenly, he was back in that garage. The yelling, the pushing and hitting, the anger and the twist in his gut, his mouth on hers, his hand on her ass…

 

He shook his head harder, to clear the image away. When Darcy went to shove him again he caught her wrists and pushed her back onto her bed. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt her, but her eyes flew wide with shock.

 

“He found your underwear, okay!” he yelled, losing his temper as he struggled with all the conjured up emotions and memories.

 

That sent Darcy for a loop, she just started at him with a lack of comprehension on her face. “In the garage? How does that…?”

 

“They were in our room. In my- in my drawer. I was gonna give them back to you, but…” He confessed, his eyes closed and his head tipped back.

 

“You kept my underwear!?” Darcy shrieked. “Did it ever occur to you that that might make all of this already beyond fucked up mess look even worse?! What the hell is wrong with you, Steve?!” She stood and started pacing back and forth, her hands pulling at her clothes and pushing a stray lock of hair out of her face repeatedly. “No wonder he was so… God, Steve! He was so convinced there was more going on then one huge fucking mistake! He looked so destroyed! Jesus! Did you even think for a second-?”

 

“Of course I did!” Steve roared, the whole thing pressing too hard against all the parts of him that wanted to be good, do good, be a hero, until he started to splinter and crack. “I was there, okay!? I saw his face, felt his fist. It was never supposed to happen like this! I didn’t mean for any of this to happen! You think this is what I wanted?! Cause this is so far from what I ever wanted!”

 

“I should never-” he gulped hard, trying to get enough air around his regret and despair. “I never should have touched you! You’re right about that! It was one huge fucking mistake. I fought it all so hard, just to have it all come crashing down in one moment of stupid, fucking weakness! I never wanted to hurt Bucky like this! He’s my best friend and now he’ll probably never even talk to me again. All because of some stupid girl!”

 

“Oh, that’s right,” Darcy hissed. “I’m just some stupid girl. I’m SO stupid! I thought for one second that you might actually look at me and see something other than a huge mistake. I wasted so much time wishing and hoping that something I did might get through to you, might make you see me as… What happened in that garage never should have happened. It never should have happened because you couldn’t give a shit about me and I had something good and solid with Bucky and I threw that all away because I just couldn’t…”

 

Darcy put her hands over her eyes and felt the tears rising up again, choking her and she felt the guilt and remorse slicing at her insides as if she’d swallowed a hand full of glass shards. She stood there sobbing for several minutes before she was able to get enough air in to speak while Steve just stood there, hands at his side, watching helplessly.

 

“Do you know what he told me before he left?” she asked him, her face still hidden in her hands. “He told me loved me, Steve.”

 

Steve gasped, the words landing like a blow against his solar plexus. Jealousy, hot and sickly green, flared fresh in his chest.

 

“He loved me and I ruined it all, threw that in his face because of some stupid childish infatuation for a guy that only makes me feel like a worthless piece of shit!” she sneered, her voice breaking and hoarse before dropping down onto her bed. “Now he’s gone and he’ll probably never speak to me again, either.”

 

Steve was too overwhelmed to deal with all the revelations she’d just made, so he just jumped onto the one thing that was easiest to process. “What do you mean he’s gone?”

 

She raised her face and glared at him. “I don’t know, he just left. He walked out and he hasn’t responded to my text. I don’t know where he went. I don’t know what to do, or how to make this right, or if I can make this right and I just feel like the worst possible human being right now and I just can’t deal with you coming in her and yelling at me and telling me how awful I am, because I already know it, okay? I already know it…”

 

Steve’s next words were cut off by a knock against the still open door.

 

He looked up to find a blank faced Professor Romanov standing there.

 

“Now’s not really a good-” Steve started, but the red-headed woman cut him off.

 

“Steve. I need you and Darcy to come with me now.”

 

There was something in the way she said his name, the tone she used. It was...careful. It didn’t sound like they were in trouble, which is what he’d first assumed.

 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Darcy asked, obviously sensing the same wrongness.

 

“It’s Bucky.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 _It should be raining_ , Darcy thought.

 

The spring sunshine was bright and warm, especially through the black of her dress. She couldn’t feel much right now, (she’d been slightly hysterical after the service and Dr. Simmons had given her a shot of something to help calm her down), but she knew the beautiful day felt wrong.

 

One good thing about the sun, though, was that she could hide behind her sunglasses and no one could see the blotchy and puffy remains of her tears on her face.

 

It was strange. She could physically feel the evidence of all her crying, but she couldn’t access the emotions that had caused it.

 

That was probably for the best.

 

She watched as people moved through the line, dropping their handful of dirt down onto the coffin. There were students and professors, as well as Bucky’s family, his mom, dad, and three little sisters, and of course, there was Steve.

 

Even in her numbed state she felt anger tickling at the back of her mind anytime she glanced at his perfectly combed blond hair, or stupid, teary blue eyes, or his clenched jaw. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other since Professor Fury had told them about the attack in town.

 

There had been an angry group of guys fresh from the protests, and a poorly made pipe bomb that had gone off too close to the gas pumps, which had caused a chain reaction that resulted in them only finding small pieces of their friend. Her boyfriend? Ex-boyfriend?

 

She didn’t even know what to call him.

 

She only knew he was gone and it was her fault. Hers, and Steve’s.

 

They’d cancelled the graduation ceremony after the attack, what with the local unrest being off the chart and there being a funeral to attend, so Darcy was only waiting for one of the professors to deliver their diplomas around and then she and Jane were out of there.

 

Jane…

 

She looked over to where her best friend was tugging gently on her hand.

 

“It’s our turn, Darce,” she whispered, her voice soft and her eyes filled with sympathy.

 

She let Jane lead her over to the hole in the ground that held what was left of the funny, smart, sweet boy that had loved her. The faculty had done their best to keep the grisly details from the students, but she’d heard all the rumors. They’d been able to identify the remains from two or three sufficiently intact fingerprints from the smoldering parts of his left arm and hand. The rest had been too burnt or even vaporized to tell there who’s exploded bits were whose.

 

Moving on autopilot she lifted a fist full of dirt form the mound and dropped it into the hole. There was a soft thunk and then nothing. Jane led her away.

 

Before her best friend could lower her into the backseat of her mom’s car, Darcy caught sight of Steve one last time.

 

He was looking right at her, his nostrils flaring and his teeth clenched so tight she thought, for a moment, that he might shatter all them.

 

Then he turned his head and Darcy climbed into the vehicle and they drove away, leaving Steve standing at his best friend’s graveside, completely alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of you might wish I'd tagged this MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH.  
> ......  
> ....  
> ...  
> ..  
> Come on, guys! It's Bucky, okay?


End file.
